Magic Before Dusk
Prologue
It was as if it were a dream. A horrid dream that no nightmare could flame no light to. A darkened path which outlined so many twists and misunderstandings that led to where it had become.
The clocked stopped and slowed down so that he could remember. Remember how he got this far in a situation of mistaken identity. And just having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. To still be in love with a dead woman whose death was the cause of where he stood. Or may it have simply been the past that had him facing death row. Sentenced to know the burden of never knowing the truth and be prosecuted for a crime he hadn't committed. With realization, his mind flashed, it flashed like the moments of rapid movement to the final impact of a car crash. Coming all back to him.
"It doesn't look good for him," a voice whispered to someone besides them.
A kind voice that was faintly remembered. His mind was blurred with visions of the night that begin these days of turmoil. He heard the your girl speak so softly and tried so hard to remember it. Why wasn't it he could put a face to it? Why was he trying to block it? It was something so innocent about the voice that made it feel corrupt. The voice underlined what he couldn't remember and why it was he couldn't save himself. Shock still racked his body from the jail cell at night. The wind whispering secrets of that night it happened came to him but images were so blurry. Things were no longer clear anymore. And he even began to believe the prosecutor when she'd say in her closing statement.
"All evidence accounts for points to this young man," she boomed and placed an evil finger to him, "Ladies and Gentlemen of the story, you hold the cards to a game of foul play that led one family to lose their daughter whose future held so much promise. Dreams have become dust! Hopes have become faults! Passion has became anger! And love, what the defense tries to use as it's case. Yes, that four letter word to the four shots to her chest. Those four letters. Love has become HATE and KILL! I ask you, look at this grieving family and group of hurting friends, then look at this young man. Who can't even speak for himself. Look at him, stare at him, then take in the note these are the eyes of a deranged lover turned killer. Stare into his eyes and relive that poor girls horrors as she was brutally shot in the back. Not her physical back, no. By falling in love and having her lover betray her so. Is this the type of young man you want to see on the streets destroying more young girls innocence! Do you!? No, I imagine not. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, we have present you with a motive, the gun with his finger prints, and the most important thing. In death the girl speaks from the grave, hear her voice and hear the pleads she screamed in blood that night he shot her. Did you hear her? If you hadn't, you heard from her thoughts before the accident. An in depth look at something as personal as her diary. The descriptions of her every movement and daily life of him in it. Looking on to how her body was found, looking past to him being discovered at the scene of the crime with the gun, looking forward to what one policemen overheard him whisper "I killer her", and to look past all this what do you expect to see? Nothing. Nothing should hold you back from finding this young man guilty. Nothing should prevent him from knowing the same lose! Nothing should make you see otherwise as to why there would be any reasonable doubt since the only doubt should have came from the young girl for making such a mistake as to getting involved with this young man! Thank you," she said sweetly but her anger still enthralled into her mind and the power of her words. She meant every bit of it. She held nothing back and most of all she wanted to see him dead.
Having the best lawyer in the world would not save him. He did his best by saying key points as to an alibi, her print's also being on the gun, an eye witness saying they over heard voices next door like two women and hadn't even seen a guy until he showed up, there was so many loops. So many loops that couldn't be filled since there was one piece of the jig missing.
After his lawyer was finished he sat back down and smiled a bright hopeful smile to his client whose eyes were still troubled. The same eyes that seemed not to understand, and by the time he might realize it would be too late.
The jury took only 5 minutes before they came back. Determined to reveal the decision. Would they find reasonable doubt or be bogged down by misunderstandings…
Coming back to reality a tear slipped his eye. His eyes were now open and realization had finally set. His love was dead and for him to have thought it was his fault still confused him. Him being the prime suspect and him being the person sentenced for her death when the real killer remained at large.
Walking away from the mumblings of other prison inmates rattling their bars, he walked to his barred up window and looked to the windows. Wishing upon the nearest star. A glimmer came from behind the moon and that's when he caught one fading. It was about to die but all of a sudden it fell from the sky. Closing his eyes he made a wish. Wishing to remember everything that happened that night, but most importantly wishing to go back in time. Change it or alter the ending. To not have lost her the way he had. With a memory of her body as a constant flash laying on the floor pooled in blood. Tears filtered his closed eyes and seeped past his eye lashes as they bounded down in pacts of three and four to reach his swollen cheeks and dried lips.
Opening them he faced the cold realities of death row life that were ahead of him until he would eventually land on the bed with a lethal injection. And if that didn't work they'd just send him to the chair Texas style. Allowing his brain to cook and throw away the memories of what many assumed were the killing of his girlfriend turned recent fiancée.
The memory…
"We the jury find the defendant Brady Victor Black guilty to the murder of Chloe Lane"
Prologue
It was as if it were a dream. A horrid dream that no nightmare could flame no light to. A darkened path which outlined so many twists and misunderstandings that led to where it had become.
The clocked stopped and slowed down so that he could remember. Remember how he got this far in a situation of mistaken identity. And just having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. To still be in love with a dead woman whose death was the cause of where he stood. Or may it have simply been the past that had him facing death row. Sentenced to know the burden of never knowing the truth and be prosecuted for a crime he hadn't committed. With realization, his mind flashed, it flashed like the moments of rapid movement to the final impact of a car crash. Coming all back to him.
"It doesn't look good for him," a voice whispered to someone besides them.
A kind voice that was faintly remembered. His mind was blurred with visions of the night that begin these days of turmoil. He heard the your girl speak so softly and tried so hard to remember it. Why wasn't it he could put a face to it? Why was he trying to block it? It was something so innocent about the voice that made it feel corrupt. The voice underlined what he couldn't remember and why it was he couldn't save himself. Shock still racked his body from the jail cell at night. The wind whispering secrets of that night it happened came to him but images were so blurry. Things were no longer clear anymore. And he even began to believe the prosecutor when she'd say in her closing statement.
"All evidence accounts for points to this young man," she boomed and placed an evil finger to him, "Ladies and Gentlemen of the story, you hold the cards to a game of foul play that led one family to lose their daughter whose future held so much promise. Dreams have become dust! Hopes have become faults! Passion has became anger! And love, what the defense tries to use as it's case. Yes, that four letter word to the four shots to her chest. Those four letters. Love has become HATE and KILL! I ask you, look at this grieving family and group of hurting friends, then look at this young man. Who can't even speak for himself. Look at him, stare at him, then take in the note these are the eyes of a deranged lover turned killer. Stare into his eyes and relive that poor girls horrors as she was brutally shot in the back. Not her physical back, no. By falling in love and having her lover betray her so. Is this the type of young man you want to see on the streets destroying more young girls innocence! Do you!? No, I imagine not. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, we have present you with a motive, the gun with his finger prints, and the most important thing. In death the girl speaks from the grave, hear her voice and hear the pleads she screamed in blood that night he shot her. Did you hear her? If you hadn't, you heard from her thoughts before the accident. An in depth look at something as personal as her diary. The descriptions of her every movement and daily life of him in it. Looking on to how her body was found, looking past to him being discovered at the scene of the crime with the gun, looking forward to what one policemen overheard him whisper "I killer her", and to look past all this what do you expect to see? Nothing. Nothing should hold you back from finding this young man guilty. Nothing should prevent him from knowing the same lose! Nothing should make you see otherwise as to why there would be any reasonable doubt since the only doubt should have came from the young girl for making such a mistake as to getting involved with this young man! Thank you," she said sweetly but her anger still enthralled into her mind and the power of her words. She meant every bit of it. She held nothing back and most of all she wanted to see him dead.
Having the best lawyer in the world would not save him. He did his best by saying key points as to an alibi, her print's also being on the gun, an eye witness saying they over heard voices next door like two women and hadn't even seen a guy until he showed up, there was so many loops. So many loops that couldn't be filled since there was one piece of the jig missing.
After his lawyer was finished he sat back down and smiled a bright hopeful smile to his client whose eyes were still troubled. The same eyes that seemed not to understand, and by the time he might realize it would be too late.
The jury took only 5 minutes before they came back. Determined to reveal the decision. Would they find reasonable doubt or be bogged down by misunderstandings…
Coming back to reality a tear slipped his eye. His eyes were now open and realization had finally set. His love was dead and for him to have thought it was his fault still confused him. Him being the prime suspect and him being the person sentenced for her death when the real killer remained at large.
Walking away from the mumblings of other prison inmates rattling their bars, he walked to his barred up window and looked to the windows. Wishing upon the nearest star. A glimmer came from behind the moon and that's when he caught one fading. It was about to die but all of a sudden it fell from the sky. Closing his eyes he made a wish. Wishing to remember everything that happened that night, but most importantly wishing to go back in time. Change it or alter the ending. To not have lost her the way he had. With a memory of her body as a constant flash laying on the floor pooled in blood. Tears filtered his closed eyes and seeped past his eye lashes as they bounded down in pacts of three and four to reach his swollen cheeks and dried lips.
Opening them he faced the cold realities of death row life that were ahead of him until he would eventually land on the bed with a lethal injection. And if that didn't work they'd just send him to the chair Texas style. Allowing his brain to cook and throw away the memories of what many assumed were the killing of his girlfriend turned recent fiancée.
The memory…
"We the jury find the defendant Brady Victor Black guilty to the murder of Chloe Lane"
